Remus & the Case of the Missing Argyle Sweater
by mackitten
Summary: Remus is missing his blue argyle sweater and has a certain suspicion who might be taking it... [SBRL]


Remus Lupin and the Case of the Missing Blue Argyle Sweater

Sirius was extremely frustrated when he burst into the Gryffindor common room. He cursed James Potter under his breath as he made his way hurriedly across the room to the stairs.

"Stupid James leaving me with stupid Wormtail while he goes off with stupid Evans," Sirius grumbled as he ascended the stairs leading to the seventh year boys dormitory.

Really all he'd wanted to do was have a wank but that was damn near impossible with Peter following him around like a lost puppy. He had finally convinced Peter that he had to work on Arithmancy, and since Peter was afraid of numbers, he had scampered off to find something else to do.

It had been a bit difficult to get rid of Peter but now that he had he was looking forward to having the dormitory all to himself. Remus hadn't done the Transfiguration reading yet so Sirius thought he should be in the library allowing Sirius to 'borrow' one of his blue argyle sweaters to inhale while he touched himself.

He couldn't remember what had brought him to do it for the first time but now he found it hard to get off without some of Remus' clothing. The feel, the smell, the idea that it had been touching Remus was enough to do it for Sirius every time.

He burst into the dorm, one hand at the buttons on his robes, one hand on his wand with an '_Accio argyle sweater'_ on his lips. The accio died on his lips when he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of his item of desire being worn by the object of his (admittedly secret) affection.

Remus was sitting on the edge of his bed reading, legs crossed at the knee. His brown corduroy trouser leg was riding up revealing a brown argyle sock covering his slim ankle. Sirius near salivated at the sight.

"Sirius? Are you okay?" Remus asked.

Sirius came to himself immediately and made the following brilliant observation: "Your trousers are too short."

"I've, uh, been meaning to let them down," Remus replied, his face turning quite red. He pulled at his trouser leg self-consciously.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius asked, his eyes not moving from Remus' ankle.

"I live here, Sirius," Remus said slowly, his expression questioning as he tugged at his trouser leg again.

"I thought you'd be reading at the library," Sirius replied distractedly, licking his lips.

"It was too busy. I thought I'd stay here," Remus said getting up from the bed. Sirius watched from near the door as he scavenged under his bed for something. He came up holding a brown leather bound book.

"Do you know what this is?" Remus asked, holding up the book.

"A book?" Sirius said dumbly.

"Yes, but it is more than a book," Remus said and Sirius swallowed because Remus had that glint in his eye that he got right before he did something mischievous and usually very clever.

"This book," Remus continued, leafing through the pages, "is a borrow-corder. It records the date and the name of whoever takes my things. I first got it because Peter kept stealing my socks but it has its other uses too."

Sirius shifted uncomfortably in the door. He could tell where this was going.

"As you know, I came across several entries of Sirius Black in my little book, often next to a blue argyle sweater. Do you deny this?"

"No." Sirius averted his eyes and looked around for a glass of water. His throat was suddenly very dry.

"So," Remus said, walking towards Sirius, book in hand, "I came to two conclusions. Either Sirius Black really enjoyed wearing my clothing or he really enjoyed the wearer."

As Remus came closer, Sirius flattened himself against the wall next to the door. He knew he was acting like a coward but he was frozen to the spot as Remus continued.

"But see here's the thing, Sirius. I've never seen you wear my clothing." He paused for a moment as if gathering his wits and courage to speak next. "So, the question that begs the asking is, am I correct in my deduction? Do you enjoy the wearer?" he asked quietly.

His expression was impossible to read and Sirius hesitated. His first instinct was to lie, to deny everything. Before he did this though, his far more clever brain kicked in and asked him, _if the thought of you liking Remus disgusted him, why is he coming closer?_

"Yes," Sirius answered. "I enjoy the wearer. Greatly."

"I see." Remus tapped his chin lightly with the book in thought. "Would you like the wearer were he not wearing said sweater?"

Sirius nodded and watched silently as Remus slid the book quickly under his bed and then without taking his eyes off Sirius, lifted the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head revealing a rumpled white oxford shirt underneath.

"Remus, I—" Sirius started.

"How long?" Remus asked as he dropped the sweater to the floor.

"I don't know," Sirius admitted. "Always?"

"Oh," Remus said softly.

As Remus came closer, Sirius inhaled deeply the smell he had got to know through Remus' clothing. As if of their own accord, a hand went to the back of Remus' neck and pulled him gently into an embrace. He kissed Remus' neck softly, not even knowing if he was allowed. Remus stood still for a moment as Sirius pressed soft kisses to his neck one by one and then just as Sirius was going to pull away, he tilted Sirius' chin up and kissed him on the mouth.

As strange as it was, Remus tasted like his scent and soon Sirius was clinging to him and kissing his soft mouth relentlessly. When they pulled back, they were both breathless and flushed.

"So you…?" Sirius started questioningly.

Remus nodded. "For a while. I didn't think you'd ever… I mean, that's why it took so long. I had to be sure."

"Allow me to assure you," Sirius said with the traces of a smile lingering as he leaned forwards again.

"Next time," Remus said once they had paused their snogging momentarily. "Ask before borrowing my clothing."

"Next time," Sirius said, nipping at Remus' ear lobe, "I'll just borrow you."

Remus smiled as he leaned forwards to kiss him once more. The argyle sweater lay forgotten on the floor.


End file.
